Signs, Signs

 One of my favourite past times when I’m traveling a country mile anywhere is to read the signs I encounter, especially if I’m not driving.  Some signs are clever or witty, some are very blunt and eye-catching, some are helpful, and some just bother me.

Not very helpful, I'd say 

Several months ago I saw one, in front of a church located on a more urban mile, that proclaimed:

“Christians are too blessed to be depressed.”  

Well, that just made my blood boil.  Faith in Jesus Christ does not offer us immunity from mental illness, just as it doesn't give immunity from any other illness.  I know many sincere and faithful Christians who cope with depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and many other mental illnesses.  There are as many Christians who live with these illnesses, as there are people of other faiths or of no formal faith alliance.

A sign like this merely puts a burden on Christians who are dealing with a mental illness.  Instead of offering the resources of the church and some empathy or understanding, this sign says, “If you’re depressed, it must be because your faith isn’t strong enough; you’re not trusting in God’s blessings,” a message whose impact can only to be increase a person’s depression and alienate him from the church.

I saw another one recently that bothered me in a different way.  The first one hurts people with mental illness; this one insults God:

“Hardships are intended to make us better, not bitter.”

God did not make us for hardships; God does not intend any hardship in our lives.  God created us to be young, happy, and healthy with God in Paradise forever.  It is the sin of humanity that causes hardships, be they illness, age, death, war, poverty, greed, mental illness, abuse…  These are things we brought into the world and it’s high time we stopped blaming God for them.

Hardships can, and often do, make us better people as we learn and grow from the lessons they sometimes offer.  Hardships are more easily handled if we align our hearts and minds with God and God’s people.  But the wording of this sign says that God sends the hardships to make us better.  I refuse to believe in a God who says, “Hmm, this person needs to learn wisdom; perhaps I should give her cancer, or maybe kill one of her children.”

I’d like both of these signs to say something that invites us to bring our troubles to God, something that reminds us that God is always there for us and grieves with us when the sins of humanity cause us pain and suffering:

And the sign said everybody welcome, come in, kneel down and pray
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all,
I didn't have a penny to pay, so I got me a pen and a paper and I made up my own little sign
I said thank you Lord for thinking about me, I'm alive and doing fine.

(5 Man Electrical Band)

 (Okay, I’ve had my rant; I feel better now.)

Eliminate the Stigma of Mental Illness

Did you know that one in five people worldwide will have a mental or neurological disorder at some time?  This virtually guarantees that every single person will be impacted by mental illness, either in his own life or in that of a family member or friend.   So, no one can say, “Mental illness doesn’t affect me.  And no one can risk stereotyping people who have the illness; it will, sooner or later, strike very close to home.

And did you know that nearly two-thirds of people who have a mental illness never seek professional help for it?  The negativity, fears, and stereotypes that prevail about mental illness are one of the largest barriers to people seeking help.

One definition of stigma is “a mark of social disgrace.”  Our own fears and distrust lead us to think about people with mental illness differently than we would if they didn’t have a mental illness.  Examples stigma against mental illness can take include:

Stereotyping:   for example, assuming that people with severe mental illness can never hold a job or have a family.

Discrimination:   for example, not considering persons with mental illness for volunteer positions, renting a home, or employment, because we know they have, or have had, a mental illness.

Fearfulness: leads us to purposefully avoiding them.

Language: making fun of people with mental illness or perpetuating stereotypes makes it harder to eliminate stigma.  “Crazy” “cuckoo” off her rocker” “loose screw” “out of his head” “losing it” – the list of our insulting words and phrases is endless.   As is our insulting body language – smirking, twirling our fingers close to our heads, rolling our eyes, making faces, intentional twitching …

 Eliminating stereotypes and stigma of mental illness is a huge goal.  We can each do our part and gradually change will happen.  Three things things you could do are:

Learn:   When we’re ignorant of the facts, we’re more likely to rely on a stereotype or false belief.  Information about mental illness is all over the web or in books.  Knowing some basic facts, such as that most people with mental illness recover well, can help reduce stigma.

Watch Your Mouth:  Change your language.  Start using language that focuses on the people, not the illness, saying “people with mental illness” rather than “the mentally ill.”    Eliminating derogatory terms like “psycho” and those listed above.

Listen:  If you know a person with mental illness, listen to his or her story and experience.  You don’t need professional treatment knowledge to listen.  Just offer the same respect and listening skills you would offer any other friend.

Pros and Cons Of Being A Grownup

The other day as I drove home to my stretch of country mile, I found myself thinking that right in that moment life was pretty good.  I was glad I was a grown up and, for the most part, pretty pleased with the kind of adult I'd turned out to be. 

As a child and as a teen, I just couldn't wait to grow up.  I was sure I'd have it made, if I could only leave childhood behind and step confidently in the world of adults.  Well, here I am, a real honest-to-goodness grownup for quite some time now, chronologically at least.

And it's great ... most of the time.  There's lots to like about adulthood and then again, some things that aren't so great.  Here's part of my list of pros and cons:

1. Pro: I can make my own choices.

    Con: I have to make my own choices.  And they come with responsibilities!

2. Pro: No one tells me what to do (and if they do, I don't have to do it - see #1)

    Con: No one ever helps me out by telling me what to do.

3. Pro:  I can make my birthday as special as I want.

    Con: I have to go to work on my birthday.

4. Pro: I can eat all the ice-cream and junk food I want.

    Con: I know what's in that stuff and I hate what it does to my scale read-out!

5. Pro: No curfew!  I can stay up as late as I want.

    Con: I can't do all-nighters like I used to when I was young.  Darn, I need my eight hours!

6. Pro: I have my own money and choose how to spend it.

    Con: This must be a myth.  First, I have to work for my own money - no more allowance.  Then, by the time I pay all the bills; there's nothing left to choose how I spend.

7. Pro: I get to take great vacations.

    Con: Yes, I know, I have to pay for them ... but I still get to have great vacations!

 A child I know summed it up for me from his perspective:

"Kids can go on fun rides at the fair and they can have pets. You do not get close to death when you are a kid but when you are grown up you might get close to death, really close. When you are a kid you can't die. Or, I guess, sometimes you can. I like being a kid because it is cool."

So, adults of the world, there's the verdict.  We're not cool, we're close to dying, and we should never have grown up.  Kids: take it from us nearly dead, uncool grownups:  stay cool; stay alive; don't grow up.

When Inspiration Strikes

I almost blew it again today.  While on a drive to enjoy some other country miles, my thoughts were idling, almost in neutral, when the gears suddenly started turning.  One idea led to another and now, at top speed, my mind was churning out a promising idea to write about, maybe to post as a blog.  Hmmm, I mused, I should make a note of that so I don't forget when I'm home and ready to write.  No, I contradicted myself, I'd never forget this one.

But my experience says otherwise.  How often have I come to my desk and racked my brain, trying to remember the idea I was so excited about yesterday or last week?  Oh, if only I'd quickly written down a few key words, is then my lament.  But, alas (such a delightfully outmoded and tragic word ... and one of my favourites), I failed to make note of it.

I'm trying to correct that lately. No matter how struck I am by a good idea in the moment, I know I'll forget it if I don't write it down somewhere.  So, I've stashed notebooks everywhere... in my office, my car, my briefcase, pretty much every room in the house and every bag I own, and especially in my purse.  I used to buy purse-sized notebooks; recently I've switched  to buying notebook-sized purses.  Priorities, right?

There's nothing I like more than a good-sized spiral notebook and a cushion-grip, fine-point, black-ink pen, just like this combo.  I usually have a good supply of new ones just waiting for me to be inspired.  The stationary department is my biggest temptation in any store and I need to be chained up in August and September when almost every store you go into displays stacks and stacks of different coloured and beautifully textured notebooks.

I do most of my organized writing on my computer keyboard and my arthritic fingers are grateful for the relief offered by modern technology.  That said, I still can't get by without my trusty notebooks for those inspiring moments that come out of the blue; then I wouldn't feel like a real writer without pen and notebook at hand.  

What was the idea that came to me on our drive today?  I thought I should write a blog post about how important it is always to have a notebook handy, in case inspiration strikes.  Did I have one handy?  Yes, thank goodness!

Precious Moments

No, I'm not talking about the adorable, big-eyed child images that we all associate with the brand Precious Moments.  I'm actually talking about these guys: two of my "baby" brothers, who came out to see me yesterday.  

Poor guys, they rode over three hours in the blistering heat and arrived here to find that our AC had conked out the previous evening and there was little relief from the sweltering temperatures to be found in my house.

Despite that, we had a great visit.  And I appreciate it more because one of my brothers (Steve, in the green shirt) brought his bike out to Manitoba a week ago, all the way from where he lives in British Columbia.  He came to visit Mom and Dad in western Manitoba and I'm flattered the two of them rode across most of the province to see my country mile here in the southeast.  Steve and I just don't get to see each other enough, thanks to the geography between us, so it was a real treat for me that he made this effort.  And I'm sure the fact that he loves to ride had very little to do with it!

The other good-looking fellow is Ron, whom I'm fortunate enough to see a little more often but somehow it's never enough.  He and I are somewhat soul mates, I think, and time spent with him is always precious time.  The way the day worked out I got one-on-one time with each of them and lots of together time with both.

Hmmmm, now how can I get my third brother, Carl, to come visit at the same time?  The precious moment could be even more precious!

So Spoiled!

I am so spoiled.  We've been without air-conditioning for two days now and we're in the middle of a heat wave here on my country mile.  We're doing everything we know to keep the house cool but by 4:30 in the afternoon we hit 28.6 degrees -- inside!  Of course, that's when it was 34.6 outside, so technically it was cooler in the house.

Today, I'm writing in the noon hour; we're waiting for the air-conditioning guy (whom I'm tempted to hug when he arrives); and it's 35 degrees outside.  Our house is humid from our attempts to cool it with open windows overnight and fans pulling in moist air.  And it's already 27 degrees in here.  No one slept much and no one has energy for much of the work that needs to be done.  I'm on holidays for a couple of days yet and feeling a little frustrated that all the things I wanted to do are not happening.

This is about all that's happening at my house right now.

I really am spoiled.  Do you hear the whine in my voice?  After years of taking climate control in my house for granted, I'm having a taste of reality for a few days.  There are some folks, even here near the end of my country mile, who have to live like this all the time - some out of choice, others out of necessity.  And there are other brave and patient souls who live in places in the world where our "heat wave" temperatures are the normal conditions and they manage to get on with life.  I'm just waiting for it to be over, so I can get "back to normal."  Yes, I really am spoiled.

So, while I hate to admit it, this is probably good for me.  It should, at the very least, make me a little more appreciative of how good I have it most of the time.  How, I wonder, did my mother raise six of us kids, tend a huge garden, keep up with all that laundry, bake all our bread and buns, and produce healthy delicious meals every day -- when air-conditioning was not the norm and only the very wealthy enjoyed its benefits?  My mother, now comfortable in her well-deserved air-conditioned home, is my hero.  Thinking of what she accomplished makes me realize it all over again:  I really am spoiled!